


I Have To Block Out Thoughts of You, So I Don't Lose My Head.

by AhTalia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, POV Jaime Lannister, POV Sansa Stark, Post - A Game of Thrones, Post-Canon, Protective Jaime, Protective Sansa Stark, Sansa-centric, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhTalia/pseuds/AhTalia
Summary: Six years after Jaime Lannister helped the North in The Great War and kept his promise to leave-- he returns to Winterfell.And with that return brought a huge surprise.





	1. Jaime - I

The sound of the light rain hitting the road around him and his horse's steps kept Jaime in almost a trance as his long journey finally came to an end. He pulled back on the reins and stopped for a moment, just outside the gates of Winterfell.  
  
His green eyes carefully studied the guards, cautiously considering if they would attempt to stop him before he could enter. It had been six years since he was last in the walls of Winterfell. Six years since he rode North to keep his promise to battle the dead.  
  
After the battle was over, his promise had been fulfilled. His promise to help them in the war. His promise to return the Stark girls home. Jaime left Winterfell the day after the Night King had fell and did not come back. He had promised Lady Sansa he would never return. He intended to keep that promise.  
  
That was until Tyrion had a brush with death two moons ago, and told Jaime to please return to Winterfell with a message for the Lady of Winterfell. Although Tyrion could have sent anyone, he insisted it was his brother. He pleaded it was a matter of life and death. No one could read the scroll. No one could know exactly where he was heading until he arrived.  
  
As his green eyes scanned the walls, an overwhelming feeling of grief washed over him. So many had fallen six years ago. He pushed every day to keep himself from the thoughts of those he lost. Brienne was one of the hardest ones but she had passed saving Sansa, which she felt was the biggest honor to her oath.  
  
"What business do you have in Winterfell?" One of the guards voices broke his thoughts and forced him back to reality. "Is that the Kingslayer?" The other one asked before Jaime could respond.  
  
A deep sigh released from his chest. Kingslayer. Even though Jaime had assisted the North, Kingslayer was forever to be his name.  
  
"Jaime Lannister." He responded after a brief pause. Although he promised to never return, he hoped this could be a brief and easy visit.  
  
The two guards turned and whispered to eachother before waving him to come forward. "The Lady of Winterfell asked to be told of your return, should it ever happen. You must wait here." The taller of the two finally spoke and gestured just inside the gate.  
  
Jaime trotted his horse forward and dismounted. His body ached. It had been a long time on horseback. The trip took time but was worth it to make his brother happy. Tyrion spent so much time as Hand that he didn't ever seem to escape his duties anymore.  
  
The sound of sparring caught his attention as settled to wait. He found himself venturing forward into the courtyard to see who was at the end of the swords.  
  
His eyes were brought to a familiar face of a man. He was a man now, at least. His face hadn't changed much besides slimmed slightly and some stubble. His hair was still short and brown. He was also much better with the sword than he was six years ago. It did not seem he was the little squire he once was. Podrick Payne was training a little boy.  
  
It brought a small chuckle out as Jaime realized that Pod was training this little boy. Wasn't it just yesterday that Brienne was training him? The thought brought a familiar ache to his chest again and he attempted to push it away with observing.  
  
The young boy was quite good and holding his own. As he began to remove his gloves, Jaime continued to observe. Podrick knocked the sword out of the boys hands finally. "You're getting better every day. Your Mother will be quite proud of how strong you are." Podrick reassured as he bent down to pick up the boy's sparring sword and hand it back to him. The boy finally cracked a smile and pushed back his golden blonde hair from his face.  
  
Finally, Podrick looked up and locked eyes with Jaime. He froze for a moment and the boy landed a hit to him, breaking his attention. "Training is over." He spoke sternly.  
  
"But we only just started!" The young voice whined.  
  
"Please go inside and find your mother."  
  
"But you promised!"  
  
"Inside, go." Podrick demanded, putting a hand on the boys head and ruffling his blonde hair. He finally started making his way towards Jaime as the little boy walked away.  
  
Although he knew he was not going to be exactly welcome to Winterfell, Jaime did not expect such an odd reaction. Especially from someone like Podrick Payne. "Young Pod. Still in Winterfell, I see." He forced a smile as brought himself towards the man.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Podrick questioned, putting his hand on the sword holstered to his hip.  
  
"Tyrion sent me with something for Lady Stark. If you could just point me in her direction." He began to speak but stopped as his eyes raised up and saw her.  
  
Jaime studied the face of the woman above him. The Auburn hair pulled back out of her face. She was gripping the railing in front of her so tightly, he was sure she would break it. His green eyes met her blue eyes and maintained contact as he slightly bowed to her.  
  
It had been six years since he had seen Lady Sansa Stark. She still stood with complete elegance. She had barely aged a day. Her skin still looked white as the snow that had fallen so heavily on his last night in Winterfell.  
  
Neither of them spoke for what felt like ages.  
  
"You promised to never return, Ser Jaime." Sansa's voice finally broke the silence as she finally lifted her hands from the railing and began to make her way down to the courtyard.  
  
"Ser?" Jaime couldn't help but let a small laugh slip from his lips. He was no longer a knight. She knew that. "Aye. I did. But we both know that I am no good at keeping my promises." The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smirk. His body was moving forward before his mind could tell him to stop.  
  
It was Podrick who stepped between them, beginning to unsheath his sword. Jaime hadn't expected that but began to pull out Widow's Wail just incase as it caught him off guard. His eyes slightly squinted as he sized up Podrick. Why was he protecting Sansa like that? A small feeling tugged at his stomach but he ignored it, unsure of what it meant.  
  
"You should have kept the promise." It was barely a whisper falling from Sansa's lips but Jaime still caught it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! This is my first fanfic so if it's not the best/most canon-- I apologize.


	2. Sansa - I

There were many duties that came with being the Lady of Winterfell. Sansa never minded though. She had been raised to do exactly this. It might have seemed mundane to others but after her time in Kings Landing, her marriage to Ramsey Bolton, and the battle against the Night King—Sansa had enough excitement to last an entire life time.

Sansa had a long list of things she needed to do today. She enjoyed keeping busy. As she ventured towards the Great Keep, she heard hurried steps coming her way.

“Pardon me, my Lady. I know you are quite busy but—” The tall man in front of her seemed nervous. It was one of the guards and she wasn’t sure what he could be doing coming to fetch her.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it my—” Sansa was cut off.

“It’s the Kingslayer, my Lady.” The guard paused and cleared his throat. “He is here.”

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room and her ears began ringing. It had been six years since she saw Jaime Lannister and she thought she would go her entire life without having to see him again. Sansa desperately wanted to put that entire part of her life behind her.

_I will be strong._

Her feet had automatically began moving and brought her outside to the bridge between the Armory and Great Keep. Before she knew it, she was overlooking the yard. The brisk air wrapped around her body like it meant to suffocate her. The young woman wrapped her fingers around the railing in front of her, gripping so tightly her knuckles whitened. She leaned herself against it slightly while she struggled to compose herself.

_I will be strong._

In the courtyard below, there he stood. “You promised to never return, Ser Jaime.” Sansa finally broke the silence. She could see her words amused him. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and finally pulled herself together to walk down and greet him.

_I will be strong._

She halted in front of him and kept her eyes on him. For a moment, she scanned over his face carefully. The small wrinkles that surrounded his green eyes. The short beard that had grown on upon his cheeks, peppered with grey. His normally neatly cropped blonde hair, slightly shaggier than usual, with grey sprouting around his temples. Age had finally started to settle in on the Kingslayer.

“Ser?” Jaime had responded with a laugh. “Aye. I did. But we both know that I am no good at keeping my promises.” He smirked at her.

_I will be strong._

To Sansa, it felt like an entire lifetime ago the first time he arrived in Winterfell, trotting in on his white horse. A gallant Knight just like from the songs she once adored. Although at that time, young Sansa had her eyes foolishly set on Joffrey Baratheon—only a fool could decline Ser Jaime Lannister was extremely handsome.

_I will be strong._

Years later, when he once again galloped into Winterfell, he was not as welcome. They had expected him an army to help with The Great War, but instead they learned of Cersei’s betrayal. That too, felt like ages ago. It was only six years ago.

As Podrick stepped between herself and Jaime, she turned to him. He was beginning to unsheathe his sword to protect her from. It seemed Jaime had realized and was now doing the same.

_Great. They are both going to act like idiots._

Sansa wanted to tell them to stop but couldn’t find the words.

“You should have kept the promise.” She finally mumbled out. Her body began moving forward again and she reached out and caught Podrick’s arm, shaking her head. His eyes locked with hers and his eyebrows furrowed as if he was silently asking if she was sure.

“Where is he?” She whispered as she leaned closer to his ear from behind. “Did you send him away?” She asked. Podrick only nodded in response as kept his eyes upon her. To reassure him, Sansa lifted her other hand on softly caressed cheek with the back of her hand.  Then she nodded and let go of him.

“I apologize I’m interrupting whatever _this_ is.” Jaime’s voice almost sounded spiteful. “But I came with a message from Tyrion.” He finally let go of his sword and let it rest.

The name pulled a smile to her face. “Tyrion?” She asked. “But he was here not long ago. Why would he send _you_?” She turned her cheek to watch Podrick walk away finally.

“Because he only trusted me, he said.”

“Well, that was stupid of him.”

They both stood there with their eyes locked now. It felt as if time had slowed down. The soft rain cooled her skin as she considered what to do next. Sansa could have him thrown from the walls and not even have to deal with this.

“Come.” She gestured to follow her. “I’ll have a bath drawn for you. You look…” She began to turn but his voice caught her attention.

“I do not intend to stay. Just to give you the message from him.”

“Just come. I know it’s been a long journey.” Sansa was now aware of the eyes that were watching them. She wanted to get out of the yard.

He finally nodded to her and she led the way to the Guest House. They walked in completely silence until they came upon the door.

“Is this a kind gesture or are you locking me in there?” He asked as they stood side by side.

“Are you insinuating that I would trick you?” Sansa almost wanted to laugh at him but didn’t’ want to show any more emotions to him than she already had.

Before the conversation could continue, Sansa stumbled forward as little arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “How many times have I told you? Do not do that. It is not good manners to scare others. Please act like a little lord.” She scolded as she leaned down to the young boy’s level.

“But Mother. Pod promised he would train would me today. He barely did! He forced me inside and it’s not fair.” His green eyes pleased up to her.  Sansa’s stomach clenched and she felt like she was about to be sick.

The words did not slip by Jaime. “Did you just say Mother?” She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head.

_I will be strong._

“What else would I call my mother?” The little boy answered back, his tone as if Jaime was an idiot.

_I will be strong._

Sansa finally stood and put her hands on her son’s shoulders. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Robb, this is Ser Jaime Lannister.”

A smile spread across the little boy’s face. “Ser? Are you a real Knight? I want to be a Knight when I grow.” The excitement was hardly contained on his face.

Her body finally turned to face the man who traveled all this way to see her. As she parted her lips to speak, Jaime interrupted her.

“I was.” He paused. “How old are you boy?” He asked, his eyebrows raising with question.

Robb stood tall and pushed his golden hair out of his eyes.

“It will be my sixth Nameday soon.” He answered proudly.

With those words, Sansa could see the wheels turning in Jaime’s head.

The day she so long dreaded had finally came.

_I will be strong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter- Jaime POV. What could he be thinking right now?


	3. Jaime - II

The hall suddenly felt very narrow and Jaime felt painfully aware of everything around him. The way the air felt as it rushed into his lungs. The way his clothes felt against his skin. How his false hand felt against the stump on his right arm. His chest began to feel tight and uncomfortable.

In front of him stood the little boy so proudly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.  The boy seemed to be tall for five and his face felt all too familiar to him.

Jaime had to be wrong. His eyes were deceiving him. Perhaps this wasn’t real. Perhaps it was another dream about Sansa Stark from a different life time. He could see the boy was waiting for him to respond but no words were forming. He swallowed hard and looked to Sansa’s face and then back down to the boy.

The blonde hair. The green eyes. The boy’s skin, which was just as fair as Sansa’s own. He was now tightly gripping his mother’s arm.

“Almost six?” He felt faint and he was sure he was going to get sick right in front of them. His left hand stroked his beard as he sucked in a deep breath. “He said he will be six soon, Lady Sansa.” He bit his bottom lip in for a moment and let out a small laugh. It felt as if he was about to go mad.

There had to be many possibilities as to how Sansa Stark came to have a golden-haired child who so strongly resembled his two bastard sons before. For a moment, he considered how it must be for Sansa. Joffrey made her life miserable and before him stood a child who looked so like a mix of Joffrey and Tommen.

“Robb, why don’t you go see if you can get a lemon cake. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” Sansa tried to force a smile upon her face as she went to push her son away.

“But you always say I can’t have any until I’ve had a proper supper.”

“Well. I’m saying you can. Why don’t you go find Podrick and share with him?” She smiled and patted his shoulder as she dismissed him. Jaime could hear the tone she was trying to convey was reassuring and loving.

As he watched Sansa look at her son, it reminded him of how fiercely Lady Catelyn cared for her children. How she desired to be reunited with her two daughters that day. Had he never made that promise, Jaime wouldn’t be standing here right now staring at the woman in front of him.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Jaime almost begged, his blood was now singing. Normally this only happened when he was fighting, and death was ready to kiss him. “Have no fear. Perhaps I assume the worst.” His voice began to rise.

“I do not know what you speak of.”

“What is his name?” Jaime demanded. He kept his eyes glued to Sansa’s in hopes to catch any hint of what she may be thinking in the moment.

Jaime was still awaiting his answer and Sansa said “You heard me before, did you not? His name is Robb.”

“Yes. I am not stupid. What is his _name_ , Sansa?” His voice rose again. He could feel the anger swelling inside of him. “What. Is. His. Name.” Jaime couldn’t help but continue to raise his voice. He wanted to stop. He wanted to turn and walk into the room she had led him to and take a moment to himself, but his feet remained planted as he pointed down the hall where the young boy had just left.

They both stood there with tense air between them. “Stark.” She answered plainly and as if the answer would be obvious.

The possibilities in his head were now swarming around. _Stark?_ It did not make sense. Lady Sansa could not have had any child named Stark unless she had married a Stark relative or perhaps someone lesser than herself.

“Not Snow?” Jaime asked cautiously. The insinuation clearly insulted Sansa. He wanted to continue the conversation but before he could say anything else, she was opening the door to the chamber and pushing him in. He watched as she closed the door behind her and turned to him.

The last time they had been alone like this was six years ago. He tried to push away the memories, but they came upon him strong as he stepped forward towards the young woman in front of him.

“You can’t speak like that where people can hear you. You need to be quiet. Do you understand?” Her voice was barely audible. She spoke in such a whisper that it reminded him of how she once whispered so intimately to him.

“How is he a Stark?”

“My brother is King. Who will question the King of the Seven Kingdoms?” It was as if Sansa had practiced this already. As if she had known what she would say to him before he even asked any questions.

For a moment, he let the silence creep upon them as he carefully considered what to ask next. He moved across the room and took a seat, leaning forward so his elbows rest upon his knees. “Is he…” He couldn’t find the right words. Had the young boy been his, surely Sansa would have told him. She _knew_ what he had been through. They had sat in a room quite like this one when he told her how he never got to father his children. Jaime never held his newborns. He never was a true father. Sansa _knew_ this. No matter what happened between them, he could not force himself to believe she wouldn’t have told him.

“Who is his father?” The question finally left his lips and lingered in the air between them.

“Podrick is the closest thing he has.” The words sliced Jaime as if a sword had just sunk into his stomach. His first thought was back to the courtyard. The way that Sansa had so softly reached up and caressed Podrick’s face. As if she had done it countless times before. _Podrick. Podrick fucking Payne._ The young man was barely a competent _squire_ last time he saw him.

"I need a moment." He said the words before he could ponder if he truly meant them.  
  
"You don't want to--" Sansa seemed confused but he cut her off regardless by lifting his hand to signal her to stop. She gave him a curt nod. "I'll send for a bath to be drawn." She mentioned as she slipped out the door.   
  
His body finally relaxed, and he slouched down as he waited for his bath. He needed to wash off the dirt from the road, the smell of horse off his body, and the feel of shame that was burdening him suddenly.   
  
It felt like ages but couldn't have been too long at all, a bath was ready. As Jaime removed piece by piece of his dirty clothes, he stood in just his breeches. He unlaced them and removed what was left until he stood naked with just his false hand. Finally, he removed it and sunk himself into the steaming tub.   
  
The water surrounding him was almost too hot, but this is exactly what Jaime needed right now. He scrubbed himself until his skin began to feel raw and he finally let his thoughts overwhelm him.  
  
He sucked in a deep breath and submerged himself momentarily. He wanted the silence. He needed to forget everything. When he broke the water resurfacing, he let out the air he held for what felt like so long. His eyes shut and for a moment, he let himself remember. 

 

  
_He ran his fingers absentmindedly across her left forearm. Her head rested back against him as she sat between his legs in the bath._  
  
_"Are you frightened?"_  
  
_Jaime lifted his fingers and softly pushed her wet Auburn hair away from sticking on her neck. His lips barely brushed the nape of her neck when he realized she expected a response._  
  
_"Me? Frightened? I've never been frightened of anything." He lied to her. "Tomorrow I will fight beside your brother, Jon Snow. I will fight beside Ser Bronn. I will fight side by side with the best and we will win." He was too confident for his own good sometimes._

_“Are you sure Brienne needs stay behind and protect me? She would be much more use out there with you.” Sansa asked as she rubbed his thighs under the water._

_He kissed the side of her cheek and then shook his head. “Who would protect you?”_

_“Podrick can stay behind.” She thought this was a fair solution, but Jaime let out a small aggravated groan. “No. I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Jaime responded possessively. “Do not worry. We will win.”_  
  
_She gripped the sides of the tub and pulled herself off him slightly, only to turn around to face him. She was now straddling his lap, water dripping off her onto his chest. Jaime let his lips explore her collarbone. He wanted to memorize every part of her body tonight. He pulled his arms tight around her waist to close the gap between them. He felt her delicate fingers touch his chin and pull his face back to hers. Their lips clumsily crashed together, and a low growl escaped his lips. He could feel his arousal begin to stir again._  
  
_"I pray we do. And when we do, you must stop coming to my chamber. Every night you've promised it's the last, and the next night I find you here. I’ve told you. I will not marry ever again." Sansa had broke their kiss but a smile still pulled at her lips._  
  
_"So presumptuous to think I'd want to marry you." Jaime laughed, bringing his attention to her neck. Letting his tongue and teeth softly skim against her ivory skin. He felt Sansa moan softly against him as she reached her hand down to grab his manhood and line them up, but his hand caught hers. "I know what this is. I know you are frightened of what is to happen tomorrow. I will come back. We will all come back.” He promised, letting go of her hand and firmly grasping the back of her head to pull her back into another kiss._  
  
_The snow fell harder that night then he had ever seen before. But the heat between their bodies and the steam from the tub kept them warm. The two of them let all their worry, their hope, and everything in between escape them in that moment. Tonight, they were not a Lannister and a Stark. They were simply Jaime and Sansa. And tonight, could be their last night alive. The desire Jaime felt burned intensely through his body. Sansa wrapped her hand gently around his--_

  
  
A knock at the door startled him back to the present time. He was again alone in the tub and the water surrounding his body began to cool. "Hold on." He shouted as he pulled himself from the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist.   
  
He unlatched the door, expecting it to be Sansa. But it was just a handmaiden. "Lady Stark asked me to bring you this." The young girl gestured to a plate of simple foods and some wine. Jaime let the girl step past him and place the tray on the table. She was gone just as fast as she came. 

After he filled his stomach with warm food, Jaime considered if he should leave the room and find Sansa. He had many questions.

In the end, he decided to stay in his chambers that night and find her tomorrow. He was tired and there would be no use in speaking today. Jaime sent for someone to take the letter that Tyrion had wrote to Lady Sansa. He did not want to see her face. He did not want to look into her eyes. He didn’t want to remember anymore. The man had worked so hard at avoiding the memories that were built inside the walls of Winterfell. Today they haunted him.  
  
_Maybe I should have kept my promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know that the boy would likely not be named Stark even with the king's word but let's pretend.
> 
> A little taste of the past! There will be many more flashbacks throughout the story to piece together everything that happened.


	4. Sansa - II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER.

After she left Jaime’s chambers, Sansa knew where she wanted to go. Her feet were moving her, but her mind was absent from her actions. She had requested a bath be drawn for Jaime and food sent to his chambers.

In her mind she kept playing the look on his face. How angry he had been and how hurt his eyes looked. She had thought she did this for the right reasons. She had wanted Robb to never be a target to anyone had they known who his true father was.

Finally, she found herself in the Godswood. This was the only place of peace she found ever for herself. The only place that no one would bother her and would leave her with her thoughts.

“Did you tell him?” The voice came from behind her and she knew who it belonged to without turning. He must have gone and waited here knowing that she would eventually to escape from this day. Sansa felt his hands touch her shoulders and she turned her face to look at him.

“I did not have to tell him.” Sansa sighed and closed her eyes. “I think he knew as soon as Robb came up to us.” She finally turned her body and faced Podrick.

In his eyes, she could see one-hundred questions. Everyone had so many questions of her today. Sansa did not have the strength to give him any answers and she did not want to argue with him.

“I don’t want to offend _, my Lady_.” His voice was uneven and filled with emotion.

Sansa narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms to her chest. The irritation was written on her face. “My Lady?” The words wounded her briefly. “When was the last time you spoke to me with such propriety?” She questioned but could see he was equally as hurt at this moment.

“This changes everything and you know it. The Kingslayer is not going to leave Winterfell knowing his son is here.” Podrick’s voice almost seemed panicked.

“Please don’t call him that.”

“You’re already defending him?”

“No, stop. Please, Pod. I can’t do this right now.”

Podrick stood in front of her and ran both of his hands through his short brown hair. “When would you like to, Sansa? I kept this secret for you. I kept it for six years. And with keeping it for all that time, I was here. I have been the one there for him.  I have been the one to teach him to use a sword. I am the one who held him when he was ill as a small boy and you feared the fever would take him.” His voice was slightly rising. Normally Sansa was very private about her affairs, but they were far enough from everyone that she did not worry about anyone hearing.

It fell silent between them as Sansa continued to switch between looking in Podrick’s eyes and looking down at her feet. It was been quite a long time since she felt this way. It had been ages since she last felt like a scared little girl. So much had happened in her lifetime that she had built a barricade around herself and did her best to always seem strong to everyone.

“I know. I truly do. And Robb adores you, Pod. Truly.” Sansa tried to reassure him but Podrick did not want to hear her at that moment. Her fingers laced into his and tried to pull him closer, but he broke her grip and left her alone in the Godswood.

Sansa stood there for what felt like hours. She didn’t move. She didn’t go after Podrick. She didn’t go to Jaime’s chambers. She stood there and listened to the wind in the trees. In her head, this day never would have come. She had always hoped her simple life in Winterfell wouldn’t be disturbed. The things she went through meant that this part of her life was to be easy. She was still a stupid, stupid girl.

Finally, she left the Godswood and went to the Great Hall. It should be supper soon and she wanted some sense of normalcy in the day. It was still empty, and she took a seat at the head table and looked around at the walls covered with her banners.

“I was asked to bring this to you.” Sansa didn’t look up but heard the scroll drop in front of her. Her eyes studied the seal and knew it was from Tyrion. Her hands wrapped tightly around it and considered if she even wanted to read it.  Eventually, she removed the seal and opened the scroll. She recognized his handwriting immediately.

**_Lady Sansa. I know you are angry with me right now. Your brother will be too. After I became sick and thought my days here were through—I knew I had to send him to see. I have enjoyed knowing young Robb. Jaime deserves to as well. I hope you will find forgiveness for me. Robb’s sixth name day should be here soon, and I know my brother will enjoy the feast you have planned. I am truly sorry. Tyrion Lannister. Hand of the King._ **

Her eyes kept re-reading the scroll. Had Tyrion not send his brother on a false mission, he would have continued to never know.  Perhaps it was selfish of her, but Sansa thought that she could forever keep this secret.

She knew that one day Robb would want to know about his father. Every day he grew more alike Jaime. His love of the sword. His laugh. His hair. It was like constantly having a reminder around her of what she could not have. It was always a sensitive subject between Podrick and herself as she swore to never marry again.

Sansa decided she did not want to see anyone else today after-all. She returned to her chambers and had supper by herself. When young Robb came to say goodnight, she pushed his hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead softly. “Your hair is wild.” She smiled. “Like a lion?” Robb laughed.

_More than you know._

“Like a wolf.” Sansa kissed his forehead again.

Once everyone was settled, Sansa found herself in her bed staring up at the canopy. Her thoughts were finally consuming her.

For the first time it what felt like ages, there was no one to distract Sansa from her memories.

She still heard the screams.

 

_"Lady Sansa. You need to stay here. You are safe." Brienne commanded her as the gates finally fell open and some of the dead slipped through into the walls of Winterfell. The first real view of a weight startled Sansa. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. The only thing she could describe it as, was terror._ _  
  
The battle had been going on for what felt like many moons. Sansa paced as she heard swords clashing and people yelling. She was truly useless right now. All she was capable of doing was watching and praying. Tears began to swell in her eyes as Brienne began fighting three wights and Arya came into view.   
  
It was almost beautiful how Arya battled. Like it was an art. When they were young, Sansa learned needle work. She learned how to curtsey properly, how to be a lady. Their Mother had always said Sansa was born a lady. That was all she was to be. In this moment though, all Sansa wanted was to have known how to fight.   
  
Arya was fighting fearlessly. Every step seemed carefully considered and calculated. Sansa held her breath as her eyes constantly darted between Brienne and Arya.  
  
"My lady. Let me bring you somewhere safe." Podrick pleaded with his eyes but Sansa shook her head as she continued to watch.   
  
It began to look bleak for Winterfell. There were so many of the dead in the walls now. Podrick moved Sansa aside and began to fight as one finally made its way inside and towards Sansa.   
  
__Then, she heard the first scream. Her blood felt as if it had run cold and dread began to flood her chest. It was Arya.  
  
Without thinking her action through, Sansa ran past Podrick and into the courtyard. He had no time to stop her with two of the dead attacking him at once. She did not know what she could do to help Arya but she had to find her. The scream was awful. Her eyes scanned her surroundings but instead fell upon Jaime stabbing through an other. His eyes lifted to hers and she saw them light up momentarily.   
  
"SANSA!" He screamed, his voice riddled with fear, to alert her. She turned to see three wights closing in on her.  His yell had caused both Brienne and Arya to turn in her direction. Jaime had never once called her Sansa in front of anyone. It was always Lady Sansa. Lady Stark. My Lady. Lady of Winterfell. Never Sansa. She never wanted anyone to realize they were anything more than two people dealing with preparations for a war.   
  
Arya did not miss this slip up. It was not the words that alerted her, but the desperate tone to Jaime's voice. Her eyes widened and a group of wights surrounded her.   
  
Both Sansa and Arya were now surrounded. The last two Stark girls would die today. Jaime was slightly closer to Arya but had turned towards Sansa.   
  
"No!" Sansa screamed to him. She saw one of Arya's weapons fall to the ground. "Save Arya!" His eyes went back and forth between the girls and she knew he knew the same thing she did.   
  
He could only save one.   
  
The scream that came from Arya didn't seem like it could possibly come from a human. "SAVE MY SISTER." Sansa was dangerously close to bring swarmed now. Tears were crashing from her eyes and she was desperately sucking in breaths between sobs. "SAVE MY SISTER." She begged to Jaime. Her voice was cracking, and her words were broken between weeps.  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut. Everyone would die today. It was stupid of her to think everyone she cared for would have been safe by the end of the war. To bring herself comfort, Sansa began to imagine everyone that she had loved, and she had lost. Her father, her mother, her older brother Robb, and her little brother Rickon. At least she would finally get to put her grief to rest.   
  
Suddenly she felt an arm tighten around her. It was death. It had to be. She waited for the pain to consume her.  
__  
The screams grew louder-- they were so loud that they pulsated through her body.  
_  
_Abruptly, she was lifted from her feet and was being carried. Her eyes shot open and she could see his blonde hair. "No!" She screamed, starting to bang her fists against Jaime's body. Her body wiggled and thrashed violently against him. The screams behind her grew louder and Sansa struggled from his grip. "I WAS READY TO DIE. YOU WERE TO SAVE HER." She was still hitting him as hard as she could gather._  
  
_After a few seconds, the chilling screams finally ceased. The tears were flowing so forcefully, she could see them pooling at Jaime's armor. Her eyes burned as if smoke were flooding them._  
  
_He placed her back on her feet. With a soft kiss to the top of her head, he turned to walk back to the fight._  
  
_"I'm sorry." It was barely a whisper falling from his lips. He may have been saying more but Sansa was falling out of her focus._  
  
_All Sansa could hear is her sister's last screams. They danced in her head as she fell to her knees. She couldn't be strong anymore. She wouldn't ever be strong again._

The screams jerked Sansa awake. Her eyes adjusted to the room surrounding her and could barely make out the early morning sun that was breaking through into her chambers. She realized her skin felt ice cold and the bed felt wet under her head. As she brought her hand up to her face, she realized it was tears that had soaked her pillow.

Jaime’s return brought the ghosts of her past. It brought questions that had been buried for years. And it brought the screams back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! I know many will be upset with who I have shown to have died. It was a very hard scene to write.


	5. Jaime - III

The morning light stirred Jaime from his slumber slowly and peacefully. The road to Winterfell was a long one and he had spent a lot of nights camped under the stars in order to make haste to complete the journey. The nights he spent inside of an Inn were fine—but never very comfortable. This bed was comfortable.

It took a minute for reality to set back in. He was in Winterfell. He had a son. He missed almost six years of his son’s life. Podrick Payne was raising his son. These thoughts made him ill.

Suddenly it occurred to him that Tyrion must have sent him here in hopes to meet young Robb. Jaime didn’t want to think about how long Tyrion had known.

_Did Tyrion know all these years? Or did he just find out his last visit?_

Had Tyrion known Robb’s entire life, Jaime didn’t know how to forgive him. His brother had known that he had three children he never raised. All those children were gone now. It should have bothered Jaime more than it did but perhaps Cersei keeping him from them was a blessing in disguise. He didn’t have to mourn.

After he broke his fast and readied for the day, he knew he had to at least speak with Sansa. Jaime left his chambers and made his way to where he knew the Lady of Winterfell would stay. He had been in the room many times before. That was another time though. Sansa would open the door and sneak him in. They would be embraced before the door was fully locked.

It felt all too familiar as Jaime stood outside of the Lady of Winterfell's bed chamber. His left hand raised up to touch the wood and an unexpected wave of emotions washed over him.   
  
The last time he stood here, his heart was shattered.  
  
_"Sansa, please." Jaime begged through gritted teeth. His body was still covered in blood and dirt from the battle. They had succeeded. They had won. But the cost was great and many lives were lost. Everyone lost someone they had loved. The worst part for Jaime was he lost the person he wanted most-- even if she was breathing on the other side of the door._  
  
_His fist slammed against the door and he rest his forehead on it. "Just open the door." He slammed his fist again and the door rattled under his weight._  
  
_Unintelligible whispers scarcely made their way through the door. He hadn't seen anyone go in there with Sansa, he wasn't sure who she could be talking to. Perhaps herself, as she was deep with grief._  
  
_"If you'd just listen to me." He hardly recognized his own voice and how pitiful it sounded. This time, Jaime shook the door with both his closed fist and his golden hand. There was some movement behind the door but still Sansa didn't open it._  
  
_The lump in his throat felt as if it was growing. Sansa would never forgive him for saving her. Had she really expected him to watch her be ripped to shreds when he was capable of saving her?_

  
_Saving her was at the expense of her younger sister. They barely had time to be reunited and now Jaime was the reason her younger sister didn't have any time left. He recalled how Sansa beat against his chest as he had to physically carry her away. He could only save one. And he chose to save Sansa._  
  
_Jaime had completely believed in the moment he chose, that he chose for the right reasons. Sansa had to hold Winterfell. She was the lady. Arya had never been raised to be the Lady of Winterfell. Arya was a fighter, but Sansa was defenseless. He chose for the right reasons._  
  
_That wasn't true though. He acted selfishly. In his head he thought that he'd live with Sansa hating him as long as he knew she was alive and well. By the heart wrenching sobs coming through the door-- she was alive but broken._  
  
_"Please...." Jaime was begging at this point and finally he heard the lock on the other side of the door lift. If this was his chance, he would embrace her and beg for her forgiveness. He would tell her how the time they've spent together has meant so much to him._  
  
_The door barely opened and through the crack came a body larger than he expected. Jaime pulled himself away from the door and his eyes pulled up to meet someone he had not expected at that moment._  
  
_Podrick. Podrick fucking Payne._  
  
_For a moment, there was only black. Then, Jaime realized he had the squire boy pushed up against the wall. His forearm of his right arm was pressing against this boy's neck and his left hand was gripping his shoulder._  
  
_"Ser...." Podrick coughed as he tried to pry Jaime's arm off of his neck. "Sans-" The boy coughed again._  
  
_"Don't fucking tell me about Sansa. What are you doing in there?" At this point, Jaime was so filled with blind rage he was sure that if he just pressed a little more, the boy would run out of air._  
  
_A set of hands began pulling at his left arm and Jaime turned to meet a set of deep blue Tully eyes. Sansa was pulling at him and yelling "What in the seven hells is wrong with you?!"_  
  
_Jaime stopped pushing his weight against Podrick but kept his forearm lightly against the boy's neck._  
  
_"We both lost people we care about! We were talking about grieving Brienne. What. Is. Wrong. With. You?" At this point, Jaime noticed how bloodshot Sansa's eyes were. How raspy her voice sounded. Her normally well-kept autumn Auburn hair was a mess. She was in the midst of tears._  
  
_"Please just listen to me." Jaime again found himself begging._  
  
_"No. Ser Jaime Lannister. Tonight, you can eat. You can sleep-- in your guarded chambers. You can ready yourself for tomorrow and you will journey back to where you came from." Sansa's voice was more clear and stern than she had ever spoke to him. Even on the first day he came to Winterfell and had to admit Cersei tricked them all. Jaime let go of Podrick finally and turned to reach out to Sansa's hand._  
  
_"No." Sansa snatched her hand back as if his skin was made of fire. "You will leave. You will never set foot again in Winterfell. You should have helped her." Her voice was cold as ice._  
  
_For a moment, he considered her words. His lips parted a few times with different answers he thought of. "I couldn't watch the woman I'm falling in lo--" Before he could finish the sentence, Sansa interrupted him with her hands raised into the air and a sob escaping from her throat._  
  
_"Don't. Do. Not. Say. It. Had you loved me, you'd have listened to my wishes. I want you to leave and promise to never return. Do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind." Jaime wasn't sure at this point if Sansa was mourning her sister, her sworn sword Brienne, or sending him away._  
  
_No matter the reason, he caused her enough pain. With a curt nod and turn on his heel, Jaime walked away. "I promise." He said with his last look back at her._  
  
Jaime's throat felt tight as he pushed away the memory. This time surely could not go as bad as last time. He lifted his fist and knocked on the door. And this time he prayed it was not Podrick Payne that opened it.  

The door opened and he could see her red hair right away. A moment of relief washed over Jaime.

“I’d like to speak to you, can I come in?” He asked.

“No. Please walk with me.” She slipped out of the door and closed it behind her. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to hide someone in there. Jaime studied her face carefully and noticed that her eyes looked as if she was crying.

Although he extended his arm for her, she did not take it. They continued to walk in silence until they reached the bridge overlooking the courtyard. The clanking of practice swords cause his attention and he realized why she was going there.

Below them, Robb had a grin from ear to ear as he stood in front of Podrick. His small frame was turned sideways and attempting to block a blow from Podrick but instead was hit in the behind.

“You’re not letting me get a hit!” The young boy whined and straightened his stance again.

“If you were in a real battle, they wouldn’t let you win.” Podrick reminded him and then again swung his sword towards the boy.

Jaime glanced away from the sparring below and looked at Sansa’s face. Her eyes didn’t lift from her son though.

“Does he practice a lot?” He asked, trying to break the awkward silence between them.

Sansa nodded and looked up at him. “Every day. He has been since he could hold a sword. A little wooden one. He’d try to hit everyone with it. Even me.” She smiled at the memory.

It seemed his son inherited his love of fighting early on as he did.  They both stood side by side in the quite as they watched their son.

The thing Jaime noticed the most was how happy Robb was. He was rarely without a smile. Even when Podrick would knock him into the dirt, Robb would laugh and get back up. He was almost relentless.

“Does he know he has a father?” He finally asked and braced himself for the answer. Perhaps she told Robb that his father died in the war and that is why Podrick had been helping with him.

He could sense the hesitation in her. Jaime watched her body stiffen and she shook his head. “I was going to tell him when he was old enough.”

“And when did you think that he was old enough?” Jaime snapped back.

“Just when I thought he was ready.” She corrected to him. His eyes dropped down to the courtyard again to watch his son but instead he saw Podrick staring up at him in between every clank of their swords.

Suddenly, Sansa was walking down the stairs leaving Jaime behind. He decided to follow her and stopped a few feet away from her. The closer he got to Robb, the more he noticed their similarities. It was as if Sansa had nothing to do with the boy’s looks. He took a few more steps forward until his arm brushed hers. This time, her body didn’t stiffen. This time, she didn’t recoil in horror. They both simply stood there watching. Jaime could have imagined that this is how they would have been every day—enjoying their son together.

Then, he remembered he wouldn’t be standing right here. He would be in Podrick’s place. Maybe it was for the best. A one-handed old Knight shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fight with a sword.

Jaime hadn’t realized they stopped until he heard the metal of Podrick’s real sword unsheathing. With haste, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and tugged it from his hip. There wasn’t much time before he had scarcely blocked a strike.

“This is a bad idea. Even for you, Podrick.” Jaime shook his head and advanced forward.


	6. Podrick - I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to see what has been going on in Pod's head!

For what felt like the one-hundredth time tonight, Podrick clumsily flopped over in his bed. It was now the early morning hours and everyone in Winterfell would be asleep. Except for him.

Normally, sleep was an easy task. Many nights, Podrick would drift off within moments of his cheek laying upon his pillow. The Lady of Winterfell found this ability quite amusing and they’d often poke fun at it together.

His eyes lazily drifted open and he glanced to the other half of his bed. It was reflecting how his heart currently was feeling—painfully empty. Most times, after Winterfell fell into a slumber, Podrick would sneak into Sansa’s chamber and spend the night with her. Even after almost six years of being together, she still made him leave before the morning light would break through her window. This would have bothered other men—but it never bothered him. Their relationship was beautiful but very guarded and complicated.

Podrick slowly traced his fingertips against the empty pillow next to him as he thought about Sansa and how her red hair would sprawl messily around it.

 

_“I’ll marry you and we can say the babe is mine, my lady.” Podrick sat next to Sansa with her hand wrapped tightly around his. There were tears slipping from her eyes but her face remained calm._

_Sansa shook her head at him. It had been two moons since the Great War and Winterfell was slowly being rebuilt around them. The losses of that day still weighed heavy upon their shoulders. Through their grief Sansa and he bonded in a way they hadn’t prior to the war. Before, hew as Brienne of Tarth’s squire boy. Now, they were genuine friends._

_“As I’ve said. I will not marry. Not again.” Sansa removed her hands from his and let her knuckles barely touch his cheek for a moment. “That is very honorable of you. Even if my answer is no. You were a squire and I know you want to be a Knight. I know you did not want Winterfell to be your home.” A soft smile tugged at her lips and it warmed his heart. She so rarely smiled since the loss of her sister._

_“My lady.” Podrick shook his head so slowly, he wasn’t sure she would notice. “No matter your choice. I will stay, my lady. I will be here for you as Brienne would have.” He promised._

_Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but her smile pulled further. “My name is Sansa. Please call me Sansa.”_

He turned onto his back and let out a groan. Yesterday, Jaime Lannister appeared in Winterfell. Yesterday, Podrick’s life changed even if Sansa would insist it wouldn’t.

The change was evident by Sansa’s reaction to seeing Jaime yesterday. Podrick stood in the courtyard with Robb and Jaime, ready to pull his sword to defend his lady’s honor and wishes. As he was approaching Jaime, the Lady of Winterfell caught his eye.

She had been leaning on the railing and staring down at them. In here eyes, Podrick could see so many emotions. Pain. Curiosity. Guilt. Grief. Passion.

All emotions that had been hidden deep inside Sansa for so long. All emotions that Podrick did not bring out of her. They shared a sincere love together. It was pure and began when Robb was a babe. Though they loved each other, Podrick was no fool. He knew they did not have passion nor fire. And yesterday, he saw fire behind Sansa’s deep blue eyes.

His mind was whirling with thoughts that assumed the worst, making the dreadful feeling in his chest grow slowly across his skin and poison his blood. Podrick had never been very skipped at hiding his emotions. In his younger days, his emotions would get the best of him and he would stutter. With age though, that passed, much to his delight.

Sleep wasn’t going to come to him. Podrick groggily pulled himself from his too-empty bed and decided to begin the day. After he readied himself and broke his fast alone, the sun was finally starting to brighten his chamber.

A smile warmed his face when he made his way to the courtyard. The little blonde headed boy he so adored was eagerly awaiting his arrival. He stood with his sparring sword and shot Podrick an ear to ear grin.  This was Podrick’s favorite time of day. It reminded him of his time spent with Brienne, learning how to use a sword and the best way to battle.

Their sparring was light hearted and usually very fun. Most days Robb was a delight even when Podrick would knock him to the ground.

“You’re not letting me get a hit!” Robb was whining but a smile still flushed his cheeks.

“if you were in a real battle, they wouldn’t let you win.” He reminded him and then swung towards the boy. This time, Robb blocked the strike and eagerly lunged towards him.

The morning was still rather early and not many strolled the grounds so early. So, when Podrick heard two voices from above he was surprised to see his Lady and Jaime Lannister standing so close by and talking with one another.

As it had earlier, the feeling of dismay began to spread through his chest. He attempted to keep his eyes on Robb and concentrate on their sparring but couldn’t help but continue to let his eyes flutter up to them conversing.

_They could be great together. The Lord of Casterly Rock and the Lady of Winterfell._

Podrick couldn’t block the toxic thoughts from bubbling inside his head. His eyes stayed glued upon Jaime walking behind Sansa. Once they stopped near him, his heartbeat began to boom over his ears.

Their arms were now touching, and they looked so effortlessly perfect together. It killed him. He would never look so noble next to Sansa.  People would always see him as the little squire boy who could barely speak a sentence without sputtering like a fool.

His fingers lingered on the hilt of his sword and the thoughts that poisoned his mind began to pull him out of control. Podrick had drawn his sword and charged toward Jaime without thinking it through.

It caught Jaime off guard and he barely blocked his strike.

“This is a bad idea. Even for you, Podrick.” Jaime said as he rolled his shoulders and steadied his sword in his left hand. Then, he advanced to him. The first slash from Jaime just barely missed Podrick’s sword and sliced through the air next to him.

Jaime rushed towards Podrick again and he barely dipped as Jaime was about to reach him and slashed downwards with the sword.  He was paired by the Widow’s Wail and the sound of the swords shrieked through the courtyard—much to Sansa’s dismay.

The next strike, Podrick sidestepped to the right just enough and the blade passed barely a hair from his face. Quickly, before Jaime could respond with a follow-up, Podrick swiftly threw his fist into Jaime’s chest to knock the wind out of him. It stunned him for a moment, which brought a smirk to his lips. Brienne taught him to fight honorably, but Bronn had taught him to fight dirty.

The fight had brought the two dangerously close to a wall, with Podrick being the one running out of room. Even with one hand, Jaime was a skilled fighter.

This time, Podrick lunged forward, letting his sword clash with Jaime’s again, but this time dodging to the left and letting his blade just barely glide across Jaime’s face. A tiny cut, but some blood was still shed.

“Can you two stop acting as if you were children?” Sansa finally called out, with her hand gripping her son’s shoulder tightly. “Do you want to lose your heads?” Her voice was firm.

Both Podrick and Jaime halted at the first sound of Sansa’s voice. Podrick attempted to steady his breath as he approached Sansa. “I’m sorry, my lady.” He took another deep breath and sheathed his sword.

“Do either of you think?” Her voice was filled with aggravation—which was well deserved. “Pod, please continue your morning training with Robb.” She gestured to the boy.

“Maybe we could speak first?” Podrick asked, but Sansa was already walking towards Jaime and reaching to his face.

“We will. First, I need to tend to Jaime’s wound.” The look on her face showed her disappointment with them both.

All Podrick could do is stand and watch as Sansa walked away with Jaime. His impulsive decision just pushed them for more time together.

_Just great. Great job, Pod._

The only thought that kept swarming his head was simple. Would Sansa Stark stay content with being his Lady when the excitement of Jaime Lannister now lingered?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was slightly hard to write from his POV since he isn't a main character in the series. But, we needed to hear from him too!


	7. Sansa - III

  
It was aggravating to watch the two men fight with each other out in the courtyard of Winterfell. Her mother had said Sansa had been a lady as soon as she could walk and ever since, she had been concerned with acting as one in front of others. Thankfully, they had stopped as soon as she asked. Sansa had feared they’d hurt one another.  
  
They walked in silence together. There were plenty of places that Sansa could take Jaime to clean his wound, but she found herself going towards her chambers. It was private and would give them a chance to speak. She knew that he must have many questions and she wanted to address them as openly as she could.  
  
Once they arrived outside the door, Jaime softly wrapped his fingers around her forearm to stop her. It took her a moment to pull the courage to look into his eyes. They were a flashing green that always seemed to freeze time.  
  
“Do you remember where I first kissed you?” His voice was deep and smooth. “We stood right here.” He reminded her.  
  
Sansa smirked and shrugged. “Must not have been memorable.” She lied.  
  
If only she could forget. More often than she would ever admit, she stood at this door and paused, reliving the moments.  
  
   
  
_“Thank you for escorting me to my chambers, Ser Jaime.” Sansa grinned as she lingered her hand on his arm, reluctant to break contact. The entire supper tonight, she felt his eyes upon her. Every move she had made, he soon followed._  
  
_“I had to make sure you made it in one piece, Lady Sansa. Someone had a bit of wine tonight.” His response was filled with arrogance, but Sansa had grown used to the way he spoke. His eyes never left hers. They didn’t wander anywhere and were always in contact._  
  
_“My lord husband kept pouring me wine.” A smile continued to play upon her lips._  
  
_“I don’t think your marriage to Tyrion ….counts. Perhaps it was the lack of…”_  
  
_Sansa lightly smacked his upper arm and then began to pull her hand away from his arm. Jaime quickly caught it with his fingers and brought them slowly up towards his face. His lips barely tickled the top of her fingers and he continued to maintain eye contact._  
  
_Every touch from Jaime was like playing with fire. It sent sparks upon her skin and brought to life parts of her she never imagined._  
  
_“Perhaps it is the wine making me bold. Would you like to come in and have a cup with me?” Sansa softly bit her bottom lip._  
  
_“Please don’t do that.” He growled and lifted his hand, resting it on the door next to the side of her head. Her back was now flush with the door and Jaime stood closer than ever. She could feel his breath tickling her skin._  
  
_Sansa let her teeth softly sink into her bottom lip again and suddenly his body was pressed against hers. His lips first captured hers timidly, as if he was judging her reaction. Her lips eagerly responded, and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. The kiss quickly changed from timid to fervent. Each movement rendering her more intoxicated than the last. Her fingers found themselves brushing through his golden hair and tightening as she arched her back against him. Even the smallest of space between them felt too much._  
  
_Their first kiss was consuming, and Sansa found herself gasping for a breath. Jaime’s right arm leisurely moved around her waist and pulled tighter. His lips left hers and skimmed towards her ears. She felt his tongue trace her earlobe and his hot breath sent tingles down her spine. “I warned you not to do that.” He rumbled into her ear and pressed against her, sending a shiver through her body._  
  
_Jaime reached beside her and opened the door finally, his lips meeting hers again and they pushed into her chambers—both breathless and clutching to each other_.  
  
   
  
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sansa swiftly turned and opened the door, sucking in a deep breath to bring herself back to the present. The last thing they needed right now was to get caught up in what was. She gestured to a chair and went and wet some fabric to help clean his cut.  
  
Instead of sitting, she found Jaime leaning against her bed-frame. She approached him and lifted her hand to wipe away the blood. Instead she found herself studying his short beard.  
  
“You’ve gone gray, you know.” She began to delicately wipe away to blood to see how deep the cut was. It was superficial and should not require any stitching.  
  
“Aye. It happens with age. I think I see one or two in your hair.” He replied smugly, causing Sansa to roll her eyes at him.  
  
“You do not!” Sansa smirked. Jaime always knew how to get under her skin.  
  
They let silence fill the room again as she held the fabric to his face to stop the bleeding. She felt his fingers reach out and touch the ones she held to his face. For a moment, she let him without complaint. Then she cleared her throat and took a step back.  
  
It was time to clear the air between them. “When I found out I was with child, I was so frightened.” She admitted, then turned and sat on the bed as she kept her eyes on the ground. “I knew Jon would make sure no harm would come to the babe, but I worried. I worried all the time. What would the North think of the Lady of Winterfell carrying a bastard child. And the child of a Lannister, none the less.” Sansa tried to keep the emotion from her voice.  
  
“I would have protected you.” Jaime sounded so sure of himself.  
  
“I know.” Sansa admitted.  
  
“I would have came back.”  
  
“I didn’t want you to.”  
  
“I would have kept my distance here at Winterfell.”  
  
“I did not want to see you, Jaime. It hurt.”  
  
“You didn’t let me tell you how sorry I was.” He straightened his body and then stepped in front of her. “I know you hated my decision. I acted what I thought was best in the moment.”  
  
“And letting my sister get killed was the best?”  
  
“Letting you get killed was better?” His responded urgently with his eyebrows furrowed at her.  
  
“I know it was an impossible decision.” She whispered and finally confessed to him. The look of relief that washed over his face was tangible.  
  
They stood there, with barely any distance between them, for a few seconds. They both soaked in the reprieve of tension. It wasn’t to last long though. “I am having a feast for his sixth name day in a fortnight. Would you like to stay?” Sansa knew the answer to the question, but still asked.  
  
The corners of his lips cautiously drew upwards into a smile. “I’d like that.” The answer was simple, but Sansa could hear the joy laced behind every word.  
  
“Do you love him?” The moment of joy between them was quickly shattered. His question was innocent enough but caused Sansa to tense.  
  
“I do.” She responded simply. It was the truth. His eyes fell to the floor kept his eyes stubbornly low.  
  
“Like you felt for me?” His voice was tight and slightly rattled.  
  
The way Sansa felt about Jaime six years ago was confusing. One wine fueled kiss lead to many nights of hushed whispers and intimate moments.   
  
"I've been with Podrick for a long time. He is a good man, an honorable man. He respects my choices." Sansa knew this was a dig at him, but continued. "He has helped raise Robb. He is a good man."  
  
His face lifted and his eyes met hers again, making her stomache jump.  
  
"You didn't answer my question." He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Sansa felt his fingertips trace the laces on the back of her dress. Her breath caught and in that moment, all she could feel was the fire beneath his touch.   
  
Sansa slipped out from between his body and the bed and made her way to the door.   
  
"It looks like the bleeding stopped. Will you have supper with us tonight? I'm sure Robb will have many questions for you. He enjoyed watching you fight Podrick." She smiled and opened the door, gesturing for him to leave. As he approached her, she absentmindedly bit the bottom of her lip.   
  
Jaime paused halfway through the door, gripping the frame to hang back towards her. "Don't do that." He whispered. Sansa laughed as she placed her hand softly against his chest. She let her fingers linger for a moment, and then pushed him out the door.  
  
Once the door was closed, she turned her back against it and let her body rest upon the wood. Slowly, her back slid to the bottom until she was sitting on the ground. She put her head into her hands and let out a small sigh.   
  
_How are we all to survive a fortnight?_


	8. Jaime - IV

The door quickly closed behind Jaime and he stood for to reflect for a moment. For a flash, he saw the old Sansa in there. _His Sansa._ The woman he had spent six years trying to avoid thinking about to keep the regret from crushing and overtaking his thoughts. He found his hand resting over his chest where her fingers had just brushed moments ago. Perhaps they would find a way to move on from the past.

He had a fortnight to prove himself worthy of being in Winterfell. It was possible if he could avoid Podrick and keep his lips tight. To keep himself in Lady Sansa’s good graces, he kept his distance from Robb throughout the day. He would get to know the boy as she wished and he had not discussed with her the boundaries she desired.

Time was lost through the day and Jaime found he was running late to supper. After he made his way to the Great Hall, laughter stopped him outside the door. There was no need to push open the door to see who the sound was coming from. He stood to relish in it before he would need to go in and it would cease.

His good hand pressed on the door and it swung open revealing Sansa, Podrick, and Robb sitting together. They seemed relaxed. Happy. He didn’t speak at first. This reminded him of a time long ago. The days he would have to watch Cersei, King Robert, and his three children act as if they were a family for the public eye. When _his_ children and _his_ love were someone else’s. He was reliving that awful period of time all over again.

“Come sit, Ser Jaime. Join us.” Sansa’s voice broke him out of his painful thoughts and was gesturing him with her hand to take a seat next to Robb. Jaime gave a curt nod and took the seat. Robb looked up at him with emerald green eyes, filled with youth and innocent.

“Mother tells me you are a real Knight!” Robb was apparently eager to ask as he barely had sat when his little voice was asking.

Jaime picked up his fork and nodded. “Aye. I was once—” He began to speak but Robb was too eager. “And Mother said you used to protect the King. That you were a part of the Kingsguard.” The boy interrupted.

“Your mother speaks a lot of me it seems.” Jaime said smugly, lifting his fork to his mouth and taking a bite of his meal. The comment didn’t seem to pass Podrick, who was gripping his fork as if he was to bend it in half. “Long ago I did protect Kings.” He took another bite and kept his eyes to the food in front of him or to the boy beside him. The best way to make it through this meal was to keep his attention away from Sansa.

“Did you fight in tournaments?” Wonder and excitement filled his words. It had been a long time since anyone had regarded Jaime with such enthusiasm. Many things had happened since he became the Kingslayer, but that was still what he was always regarded as.

“I did. Many of them.” He replied proudly.

“I watched him in two of them, you know.” Sansa took a long sip of her wine and smiled at her son. “One at a Tourney on Prince Joffrey’s name day and another at The Hand’s Tourney when my father was appointed Hand of the King.” There was a sadness behind her voice but Sansa did well to hide it.

Robb leaned forward towards his mother with a grin. “Did he win either of them?”

The sound of the door closing behind them caught the tables attention.

“No, boy. But I did. Knocked _Ser Jaime_ right to his ass” A deep and grumbling voice boomed behind them. Jaime turned his body towards the voice and came to a large figure standing there, hand on his sword. His eyes trailed up the body and landed on the scarred face he had not seen in years. Sandor Clegane. Standing there, as large and ugly as ever. “I heard a rumor that a Lannister cunt had wormed his way through the walls.” The Hound gruffed and seated himself at the end of the table.

Jaime straightened his back in his chair and pursed his lips together. Sandor Clegane would best him in a fight, no doubt about that. “The Hound. Still alive, I see?” He picked up his wine cup and lifted it into the air, in a silent toast to him. It was to be a peace offering between the two.

The Hound grunted and leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees, and cocking his head to the side. He kept leaning until he was just close enough to Jaime to make sure he would hear him. “I’d cut your fucking head off right now. Lady Sansa told me I can’t though. Maybe just cut your golden cock off?” His voice was just low enough for Jaime to hear and then he retreated back comfortably into his chair.

The room fell silent aside from the sound of forks stirring and cups being refilled. Jaime took notice of Sansa refilling her cup with more wine. “More wine, Lady Sansa? Perhaps you’ll need someone to escort you if you’ve had too much. I can escort you.” Jaime grinned as he took notice of her face flushing into a wonderful shade of pink. He imagined that she was remembering their conversation earlier about their first kiss together outside her chambers. Wine fueled her desire that night and Jaime would love nothing more for it to fuel her again.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Podrick chimed in, slamming his fist down at the table to grab Jaime’s attention.

“Funny. I didn’t hear Lady Sansa oppose my offer.” Jaime quickly responded to Podrick.

They had barely made it half way through supper before finding a way to squabble. Jaime would have to try harder to get along with this fool. He watched as Sansa drank what seemed like half the wine in her cup before she stood up and walked to Robb. “Let’s get you cleaned up for bed. Did you even wash up for Supper? Or did you roll around in the dirt right before hand?” She smiled and lead him out the door.

Jaime desperately wanted to follow her, but went with his better instincts and excused himself to his chambers for the night. No one protested, of course. Sandor Clegane and Podrick Payne both despised him. They’d probably both execute him had they were given the chance.

The next seven days, Jaime fell into a routine. Sansa had told Podrick to let him take over Robb’s training. He spent every morning getting to know his son as they sparred. The boy had tremendous energy and it never seemed to be spent no matter how much they time they spent outside together.

In some afternoons, Sansa would let Robb ride with Jaime. He would tell him stories of his youth. The good stories at least. How he learned from Barristan the Bold, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, and other knights. The boy was always so eager to hear more, learn more.

Every other evening, he would torture himself to sit and sup with Sansa, Podrick, and Robb. He put on a good face for the sake of Sansa and Robb, but ultimately, he made him miserable. It was a constant reminder of what he wished he had and a constant reminder of what he already lived through.

It was the seventh moon after his arrival had finally set and the eighth sun had rose when Robb first asked Jaime about Sansa.

“What was Mother like when you knew her?” The question caused Jaime to halt his horse and look through the afternoon sun towards the young boy.

“Lady Sansa was strong. She was fierce. Just as beautiful today as she was then. Your mother was too smart for her own good and no one had realized it yet. I remember my brother Tyrion constantly said everyone underestimated her.” Jaime answered, studying the young boy’s face for a reaction.

“Were you two friends?” His little head tilted to the side.

“We were…” Jaime paused and rubbed his fingers through his beard as he contemplated how to answer.  “We were close.” It was a short answer but he felt it was sufficient.

“I think Mother used to tell me about you. At bed time, when she tucked me in, she would tell me stories of a Knight she knew as a girl.” Robb didn’t seem to linger on this thought much more but it caught Jaime’s attention.

Sansa had told their son about him. She just did not explain _who_ he was to the boy.

The ride back to Winterfell was short and Robb was off to his daily lessons with the Maester. Sansa had told him it was important to her that Robb grew to not only be a great swordsman, but an intelligent young man.

He found himself wondering through Winterfell looking for Sansa. He found her at the ancient Godswood, seated silently next to the heart tree and the pool of dark water. Her eyes were shut and a small streak of sunlight had broken through the trees above and rested on her face—making her white skin glow. Her beauty caught him by surprise.

“I heard you spoke of me to Robb. Told him stories of a great Knight you once knew.” He was surprised she did not startle. Instead, she simply opened those deep blue Tully eyes and glanced up at him from the ground.

“A great Knight? That doesn’t sound like you.” She smirked and fixed her dress to pull herself up. Jaime stepped forward and offered his hand. When she placed it in his hand, their eyes met and he wanted to pull her into his arms. Instead, he assisted her to her feet and then let his hand drop to his side.

“Why did you tell him about me then?”

“I thought he should know about his father.” Her voice was low and Jaime thought heard a tone of shame behind it.

“Perhaps one day you can tell him I _am_ his father.”

“Perhaps. One day.” Sansa agreed and stepped forward closer to him. It was hard to read her at times. She did a magnificent job at keeping her emotions in check and her face stoic. Many had referring to The Lady of Winterfell as one with feelings of ice, but Jaime saw through that.

Before he could regret his actions, Jaime lifted his hand to her face and lifted her chin. He brought his face forward but stopped an inch away. He could hear her breath catch and her eyes closed. Instead of bringing his lips to her, he let his thumb lightly trace over her bottom lip.

“I remember when you brought me here. You said you’d take away every memory that Ramsey Bolton had ruined for me here.” Sansa whispered, lifting one of her hands to his. He expected her to remove his hand from her chin but instead she rest it upon his. “I think about that day every time I come to the Godswood.” Sansa seemed surprised by her own words.

Jaime felt his heart beating fiercely against his rib cage and he feared he would let his feelings overpower him. He removed his fingers from her chin and turned his hand, letting his knuckles trace lightly over her jawline and then his fingertips ran down her neck, pushing away some of her auburn hair that was catching the sunlight, giving off the effect of the sunset hitting an autumn tree.

He felt her body shift towards him closer and he could feel the heat of her body between them. All he would have to do is reach down and claim her lips to his own. He could feel her breath tickle his face and her scent brought him back to the mornings he would wake and find her still in his arms and her hair a mess on his pillow.

“I can give you new memories.” He promised, running his tongue across his bottom lip slowly. “You never did let me take you here. You said it wasn’t proper.” His voice was low and sensual. His fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and his false hand went to the small of her waist. Right as he went to close the gap between their lips, he abruptly stopped and took a step back.

“Perhaps one day.” He repeated what she said earlier in the conversation and smiled. It pained him to pull away from her, but he needed to wait. Should she get upset he kissed her, Sansa could have him sent away. He had to make it to Robb’s feast, and that would take self-control.

A laugh escaped Sansa’s lips and she shook her head at him.

“Don’t hold your breath.” She rolled her eyes at him as she ran her hands down her dress to smooth it out. She seemed nervous and bothered by his choice.

To Jaime, this proved that she still felt the way she once did.

Perhaps breaking his promise was the smartest thing he had done in a long time.


	9. Sansa - IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS MATURE MATERIAL. 
> 
> AKA there is some smut in this one.
> 
> My longest chapter so far! I had a lot of fun with this one.

Sansa stood there in the Godswood, her skin flush and her mind disarray. When she was around Jaime, her mind was a personal battlefield. The thoughts of what could have been always surfaced itself and were fighting the thoughts of what is now. It was utterly exhausting and drained her.  
  
The rest of the day was uneventful and she had hoped to see him at supper. It was hard to hide her disappointment when the time came, and he never appeared. This wasn't unusual for Jaime. Some nights he had joined them and took part in pleasant conversation as they all attempted to grow used to this new dynamic. Some nights he avoided them and kept to himself.   
  
The days leading up to Robb's name day feast were packed and Sansa found herself keeping busy to avoid Jaime. She enjoyed listening to Robb tell her about their training and their afternoon horseback rides. The boy looked to his father with such respect, even if he had no clue he was his true father.  
  
As Robb would excitedly reveal new details he learnt of Ser Jaime and stories of his Mother when she was young, Sansa could see the tension behind Podrick's eyes. It could have also been that Sansa hadn't let Podrick spend the night in her chambers since Jaime's arrival. Things were currently tense in her once simple life. Each day that passed added more to the tension in the walls of Winterfell.  
  
The day before the feast came and with that her expected guests arrived one by one. In the early afternoon, Sansa brought everyone outside and lined the courtyard of Winterfell.  
  
A flood of Kingsguard on horseback suddenly broke through to the yard and Sansa straightened her posture. It felt like yesterday when she stood here with her family as a young girl in the same fashion. That was the first time she really remembered seeing Ser Jaime Lannister. He came in on his white horse, as smug as ever.   
  
Her brother was very much the opposite of King Robert Baratheon. He traveled with the Kingsguard only because Tyrion demanded it was necessary. They did not carry his banners and they did their best to keep attention away from them. When he was finally visible, the crowded courtyard leaned down into a proper bow. The King made his way to Sansa and stood in front of her as she raised back up before anyone else.   
  
"King Aegon." Sansa said with clear amusement in her voice.  
  
"Lady Stark of Winterfell." Jon tilted his head to her. They stood looking at one another seriously before Jon pulled his sister into a hug. "You know I hate when you do this. I don't like all the...." He drifted off as he turned his attention to the young boy standing adjacent to Sansa.   
  
"Who is this grown man?" Jon laughed, ruffling his hand through Robb's hair. "I think you've doubled in size since I last saw you." He smiled fondly and turned his attention next to Podrick, patting his arm and giving a nod.   
  
Sansa watched his next interaction carefully. Jon next came upon Jaime and stood in front of him.   
  
"Your Grace. It is good to see you again." Jaime had a relaxed look upon his face. Sansa had not spoken to Jon about Jaime in many years. She had no idea what their relationship was like as Jon respected her wishes to be kept in the dark. "Tell me, how is my dear brother feeling?" He asked.   
  
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" A voice spoke from behind the King. Jon moved aside and there stood the Hand of the King.   
  
The two brothers stood a few feet apart from each other. "Little brother. How good of you to leave your bed and travel to the North." Jaime took a step forward.  
  
"I couldn't miss young Robb's name day, now could I?" Tyrion's attention turned away from his brother and went to the boy gripping Sansa's hand. Robb let go and wrapped his arms tightly around Tyrion. "You're going to be taller than me very soon!" He returned the embrace.   
  
Robb grinned at Tyrion. " _Everyone_ is taller than you." He giggled but was quickly pulled back by his mother.   
  
"Robb! Where are your manners. You can't speak to the Hand like that!" She scowled. "Forgive him. He is still learning to be a little Lord."  
  
Tyrion reached for her hand and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. "Lady Stark. How is my lovely wife doing?" He let go of her hand and glanced over to his brother who was speaking to the King.  
  
A smirk played at Sansa's lips and she dismissed the courtyard and brought everyone to the Great Hall where she had a light meal ready for her brother, the King.   
  
Sansa stood and watched Robb standing next to the two Lannister brothers. She couldn't hear their conversation but noted how alike they all seemed. The blonde hair. The way they stood. They all had a small arrogance about them that kept everyone at a distance.   
  
"Do you regret your choice?" She turned and saw Jon standing next to her. She shook her head and looked back to Robb.   
  
"I don't know. Robb is already very fond of him. I imagine what it would have been like if I had you send him back here when I first told you I was with child." She answered. "What could have I done?"  
  
"You know my answer. It would have been the honorable thing to do." He sounded so much like Father that it was hard to believe he was not his true son.   
  
"We have discussed this. Honor. Where did that land our father? Did honor save him?" Sansa had a tone of annoyance.   
  
"I could have declared him a Lannister." He rebutted.   
  
"You could have, your Grace. But there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. "  
  
"You know I don't like being called that." He grumbled.   
  
"I know. But you are King. Everyone respects you, so I have to pretend to." She teased.   
  
"If you should decide, I shall declare him as his son. Just remember that. I want you to be happy, Sansa. That is all I've wanted aside from protecting you." Jon let a small smile come to his lips. It was a rare thing to see him smile since the Great War. He had become the King of the Seven Kingdoms at a cost so great. Sansa knew he would have never accepted it had it not been Daenerys' last wish.   
  
Sansa nodded to him and gestured to the food before she stepped away from Jon Snow and headed to Tyrion, Jaime, and Robb.   
  
"There is my lovely Wife." Tyrion already had a cup filled with wine and it was already half empty. He raised it in a silent toast to Sansa.   
  
"Mother has no husband." Robb scrunched his nose at Tyrion and fidgeted with his hands.   
  
"How is everyone getting on? Robb have you been showing them how a little Lord treats his guests?" Sansa patted his back and looked up at Jaime. His eyes were already upon her and when they locked eyes-- her stomach jumped into her throat. Aside from their pleasantries at suppers, they had not spoken since the day at the Godswood. She recalled how his fingers brushing her face stirred a fire in her stomach for the rest of that day.   
  
Robbed nodded and began to answer when he was distracted by a young girl his age. "Go ahead." She urged him on.   
  
Tyrion had turned to grasp the flagon of wine and was pouring a cup. He handed it to Sansa. "Today you have to." He grinned as she took the cup from him. The wine was smooth and warmed her throat as she gulped down more than she would have liked to as a proper Lady.   
  
The sounds of conversation and laughter filled the Great Hall. Though it was a smaller feast than it would be tomorrow, everyone was enjoying themselves. Sansa watched as Robb kept finding his way back to Tyrion and Jaime. As the night went on, Sansa found her cup was never empty. Wine seemed to appear out of thin air anytime she came close to finishing it. She suspected that Tyrion was behind this.   
  
It was getting late and she knew she had a lot to accomplish in the morning for Robb's sixth name day. The boy was so excited, so she wanted it to be perfect. As she stood up, she stumbled a bit. Her cheeks flushed red and she turned away from the room to hide her embarrassment.   
  
"My lady. It seems you are once again in need of someone to escort you. Shall I get you a guard?" Jaime smiled as he put his hand out to help steady her.   
  
"I think you'll do." Sansa laced her arm through his and held onto his forearm with her other hand. "'Tis a great honor to escort the Lady of Winterfell, you know." She had a cheeky grin on her cheeks.   
  
He led the way and they walked arm in arm, taking in the silence together. This time it wasn't an awkward silence. It wasn't tense. It was comfortable.   
  
They stopped outside her chambers. "Should I help the Lady in?" He opened the door and guided her inside. She could tell he paused for a moment when deciding to close the door, so she let go of his arm and pushed it shut herself.   
  
"Thank you, Ser Jaime." She took a few steps into her chamber and began to remove the braids pulling the hair away from her face. Sansa could feel his eyes on her even with her back to him. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook it out, taking a deep breath in as she considered what to say now they were alone.   
  
The sound of his footsteps against the floor made her heart race. Each step echoed into her chest and made her anxious. The final step brought him directly behind her. Sansa didn't turn her head. She stood there completely still until she felt his left hand brushing away her hair. His fingertips tickled her skin.   
  
"I always loved your hair." He mumbled as he finished pushing it to the side. She could feel his breath down her neck, sending tingles down her spine and igniting a fire low in her belly. His fingers slowly made their way from her neck, to her shoulders, and down her arms. Even through the fabric of her dress, the heat coming off him was intoxicating her. His golden hand snaked around the small of her back, around her hips, and then stopped over her belly button.   
  
Sansa shut her eyes and let her body relax against his. It felt like they stood there with Jaime behind her for ages. There were no words and no movements on either side.   
  
"Jaime" She finally whispered. As soon as his name left her mouth, she felt his lips softly caress her neck. He pulled her tighter to his body and let his lips and tongue trace from the bottom of her neck up to below her ear. Her breath caught and she enjoyed the sensation. His left hand grabbed hers and spun her around.   
  
They were now face to face with Jaime's false hand on the small of her back-- keeping Sansa pressed into his body. She looked up at him and her teeth barely sunk into her bottom lip when he let out a deep growl. Her face tilted forward and closed the small gap between them. When their lips collided, Sansa felt as if the room ran out of air. She felt light headed as she opened her mouth to let his tongue slide across her lips and massage her own. A moan escaped her throat and only caused him to pull her tighter.  
  
As their kiss became more consuming and desperate, she felt his hand behind her, pulling at the laces to her dress. In return, she began undoing his breeches. Sansa could feel through them how hard he was already, and she couldn't help but smirk, slightly proud of his reaction to her.   
  
It was Jaime who broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. He was already breathless. "Are you sure?" He asked her. "I want you to be sure." He groaned through gritted teeth as Sansa pulled the last lace and his manhood found the relief of not being confined any longer.   
  
"I want you, Jaime Lannister." She whispered as she let her lips brush into his again. They both messily fumbled with their clothes until they were standing there naked.   
  
Her eyes studied him carefully. Although age had brought gray to his beard and some of his hair, his body was still perfect. It looked exactly as she remembered it six years ago. Every muscle seemed perfectly sculpted. Her eyes fell to his chest and she lifted her fingers tracing from his chest to right arm. The kept going until she fell upon his golden hand. She began to remove it when he pulled his hand back.   
  
"You don't need that with me." She reassured him, then pulled his hand back again and removed it. Even six years ago, she never wanted Jaime to hide himself from her. She had shown him her scars and the things she hated the most of herself, yet he was always so ashamed of his missing hand.   
  
After she removed the golden hand, she traced over his stump and pulled his arm around her. His lips claimed hers once again and he lifted her off the floor. Jaime spun his body around and dropped her on the bed. His hand pushed her back explored her body. He rubbed down from her neck and let his fingers drift to her nipple and lightly twisted it with his thumb and forefinger.   
  
He climbed forward toward her and kissed her forehead. "I thought about you every day." He admitted as he let his lips kiss down her neck. Sansa could barely take it. She desperately wanted him to just take her right then. It had been so long since she had him. When his tongue flicked over her nipple, she gasped. Jaime continued down, kissing each hip bone and then Sansa felt his tongue slowly dance around her folds and finding her most delicate nub. "Oh, please." She moaned, bucking her hips up in anticipation. Sansa wrapped her fingers into his hair to grab his attention and grinned wickedly at him. She tugged him up to meet her.   
  
"I can't wait this time." Sansa muttered as she felt his forearm rest beside her head. She reached down and grabbed his cock, teasing the head of his cock with her wet entrance. Jaime tensed on top of her and leaned down kissing her lips as if he may never see her again. The kiss was tender and as Sansa began returning it, she felt him begin filling and stretching her inch by inch until he was completely buried in her.   
  
Jaime had let out a moan as she rocked her hips to take him in even deeper. "My Gods, Sansa." His voice was unsteady, and he rested his forehead against hers. Their bodies rocked together, and their lips continued to go between clumsily crashing together and him kissing down her neck.   
  
With every thrust, Sansa could feel nothing beside the tension building between her legs. She squirmed beneath Jaime's body as he quickened the pace. Her head began spinning out of control and her body ached for more. More of his lips on her. More of his cock inside of her. More. More Jaime.  
  
"I need you." She moaned, bucking her hips up against him, her hands pulling at his back as she ached to have him closer. Have him deeper. It was beginning to bring her out of control as he pushed deeper into her and the room felt like it began to spin to Sansa. "Please." She gasped, her nails now running down his back.  
  
She felt his teeth sink into the skin over her collarbone and that was all she could take. All coherent thoughts began to flush from her mind as Sansa let a final moan of ecstasy out as she felt herself hit her peak and clamp down around his cock.   
  
The feeling of Sansa climaxing around Jaime must have been too much as he lifted his forehead to hers again, steadied himself with his right arm, and was gripping her ass with his left, pushing himself as deep as he could. She felt his cock pulsing inside her and he was groaning through his gritted teeth.   
  
They remained like this for a few moments. Jaime's body on top of hers with her legs spread open and her feet interlocked with his own. He was still inside her and they both were trying to calm their breath. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest. Finally, he brought his lips to hers and tenderly let them claim hers. His body slid off hers and he fell to his back next to her.   
  
"I missed you." He finally said, his hand resting on his chest as Sansa watched it rise and fall unsteadily.  
  
Sansa glanced over at him with his admission and smiled as she began to pull herself from the bed. "I know. I did as well." She replied, turning away from him.   
  
"What does this mean?" He asked moving from where he was laying and now putting his weight on his elbow as he brought himself closer to where Sansa was now seated.   
  
"What do you mean?" She asked, running her hand through her hair.  
  
"This. What happened. What does it mean for us?" Jaime tried to turn Sansa towards him, but she placed her hands on either side of her body and pushed up from the bed, looking through the clothes that were messily about the floor.   
  
"I don't know. I am still with Pod--" She picked up her shift and brought it over her body.   
  
"That didn't seem like you were worried about Podrick." Jaime got off the bed and began dressing himself.   
  
Sansa could feel her throat tighten and guilt began to creep through her skin. "Are you insulting me?" She crossed her arms and felt the tears begin to well in her eyes.   
  
"Sansa." He groaned at her, pulling his boots onto his feet. He stepped forward and brushed his fingers to her cheeks. "I want to be here. I want to know Robb. I want Robb to know I'm his father. What do you want?" His eyes were pleading with her.   
  
"I just need time. Podrick loves me and he loves Robb."  
  
"You haven't said you loved him."   
  
"Of course, I love him."  
  
"So much that you just let me in your bed?" Jaime quipped back, pulling his hand away from her face.   
  
"Maybe you should return to your chambers for the night. Robb expects you up early to help him train so he can show his new skills to the King." Sansa moved to the door, beginning to open it.  
  
A knock at the door caused her to freeze. Her breath caught and she held her hand against the door to stop it from opening further.  
  
"Lady Sansa. The King sent me to check you made it back to your rooms." It was Tyrion on the opposite side of the door.  
  
Jaime pushed past Sansa and opened the door. "Dear Brother. How lovely of you to check on her." He pushed past and stood beside his younger brother.   
  
Tyrion looked between Jaime's disheveled appearance and Sansa covering herself in just her shift. “What did you two idiots do?” He clearly understood how this would complicate their situation. She pushed the door closed and locked it.   
  
Sansa went straight to her bed and dropped her body on top of it. Her hands raised to her face and covered her eyes. All at once, her emotions began to break through. A sob escaped her lips and she thought about the consequences of her night. Podrick wouldn't forgive her. Robb adored Podrick and would lose him because she was selfish. She was always so selfish.  
  
A long sigh helped sooth her and she sucked in the air to further calm her nerves. The smell of Jaime remained on her bed and she turned to the pillow that his head just rest upon a few minutes ago.   
  
No matter what she decided, Sansa would hurt someone. There had been many nights she wished she had a Mother or a Sister to confide in and advise her. The night she labored and birthed Robb was one that stood out to her the most. But as tears slid down her cheeks, tonight she wanted them more than she ever had before. Someone to listen to her. Someone to help her. Someone to tell her what she should do.   
  
But Sansa had no one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Robb's Nameday Feast.
> 
> Going to be a tricky one, don't you think?


	10. Jaime - V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed post! The Flu really knocked me out last week!

  
The door slammed and Jaime stood there besides Tyrion with an uncertain look on his face. He could feel his brother’s eyes boring into him and knew the conversation ahead wasn’t to be easy.  
  
“You couldn’t keep your cock in your pants for one more night?” Tyrion flashed him a mock disappointed look and began walking down the corridor.  
  
“If I recall, yours has landed you in quite a bit of trouble in the past too, little brother.” Jaime smirked and followed him.  
  
“The honorable thing to do would have been to wait.”  
  
“Shall we discuss honor?” Jaime stopped walking and turned to his brother, his voice now hushed. “Do you think the honorable thing to do would have been to tell me I had a son?”  
  
“I did not have a choice in the matter.”  
  
“Is this why you visit Winterfell so much?” Jaime replied with a struggled voice.  
  
“The King did not want you to know. Lady Sansa did not want you to know. The King is Lady Sansa’s brother. Do you see the problem?” Tyrion responded to him. Even through his anger, Jaime could see the regret behind his brother’s eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and he was staring intensely at him.  
  
“You told me against their wishes now, did you not?” Jaime snapped back, lifting his hand to his face and rubbing down from his eyes to his chin.  
  
“I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am.” Tyrion’s voice was low and lacking the normal wit behind it.  
  
It was much too late, and Jaime was much too aggravated to continue the conversation with his brother. He pushed his lips together and nodded, then continued to walk to his chambers alone.  
  
Once the door shut to his room, he could finally let his guard down. So much had happened since he arrived at Winterfell. Sansa asked him to stay until Robb’s feast and that would come tomorrow. The future beyond that felt uncertain. His eyes began to flutter as he thought about what the future may hold. There were infinite possibilities of what it may bring. Perhaps Sansa would extend his invitation. If she wouldn’t, then he would ask for Robb to visit him at Casterly Rock.  
  
Much to Jaime’s regret, the morning quickly came. This morning he had promised to assist Robb with a final training before he would show the King his new skills. Since his arrival, they had trained together every morning. If Jaime was to leave tomorrow—this would be the time he would miss the most. His son was a natural—just as they said Jaime was as a boy.  
  
Once he was readied for the day, Jaime decided against breaking his fast as he normally would. His stomach was in knots and the idea of food weighing it down didn’t thrill him. He left his chambers and went outside, where a very golden-haired boy was already eagerly waiting.  
  
“Did you even go to sleep, or have you been standing here waiting all through the night?” Jaime smiled and walked up to Robb. The boy cocked his head to the side and grinned at him. When the boy smiled like that, he could see Sansa in him. She may not have given him her blue eyes, but Jaime had noticed that a lot of their expressions were one of the same.  
  
“I slept!” Robb picked up his sparring sword and was ready to begin training. This boy had endless bounds of energy. “I just need to show the King that I am not a little boy anymore.”  
  
The thought made Jaime smirk. Robb was indeed a little boy who still had dreams of one day becoming a great Knight. That would not be his future as one day, little Robb Stark, would be the Lord of Winterfell. The North also were followers of the Old Gods and Knighthood was apart of the Faith of the Seven. All realities that one day the boy would have to face, but right now he enjoyed letting Robb be excited for all the possibilities of the future.  
  
Jaime spent the next hour training with Robb while the rest of Winterfell finally awoke and began preparations for the day. When Robb excused himself temporarily to fetch some water, Jaime sat down to catch his breath.  
  
“He looks like you.” The voice pulled Jaime’s attention up and in front of him stood the man he once knew as Jon Snow. He pulled himself up to stand for him, but Jon lifted his hand to tell him to stop. “He will be force to be reckoned with one day.”  
  
It was through good intentions that Jon told him this. They had always been on good terms since the war had passed. The years seemed soured now that Jaime knew he had known this entire time and had told everyone not to tell him. Jon was no longer the bastard of Winterfell though, and he could not tell him how displeased he was. Instead, Jaime nodded and let his lips pull into a tight smile. Though Jon had kept this from him, Jon also had decreed Robb as a Stark. Robb would not ever be a Snow or know the hardship of being a bastard child.  
  
“He does. Here is to hoping no one else notices though.” Jaime laughed and then saw Robb out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“Notice what?” The boy questioned as he spun his sparring sword around his hand.  
  
“Notice your skill with the sword. Everyone will want to spar you next.” Jon answered, putting his hand on Robb’s shoulder and squatting down. “How much have you been practicing?” Jaime stood and observed Jon talking to Robb. They contrasted each other so greatly. Jon had dark and course hair with eyes so grey they almost seemed black. His beard was dark, and he was average in height. Robb had hair so bright, it was as if it was as bright as the sunshine itself. His eyes were a bright green and right now, Robb was above average in height. Though the differences, they were family and it showed with how Jon spoke to the young boy.  
  
“Every day, your Grace. Every day for a full hour. Sometimes Mother will let me practice a second time if I’ve worked hard at my lessons with Maester.” Robb replied in a single breath. “Are you here to watch me now?”  
  
Jon stood back up nodded. “Aye. I have been watching you. What better time to watch than when you don’t know I am?” The statement shocked the young boy. Jaime could tell he was hoping to realize that Jon had been watching them. “I’d think today is your tenth name day, not your sixth, by your skill. You remind me of my eldest brother, Robb. The one you share your name with. He had trained to wild a sword from childhood. “  
  
Jaime shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Robb Sark, the once King of the North, and decided it was time to leave Robb to spend time with Jon. He bid his goodbye and kept out of everyone’s way for most of the day.  
  
An hour before he was due in the Great Hall for Robb’s feast, a knock startled him in his room. “Come in.” He shouted. The door swung open and a familiar red-headed woman slipped through the door. She stood in front of him with her hands clasp together. Her hair was pulled back away from her face and cascading down her shoulders and back. Sansa’s lips were tight, and her eyes gave no emotion away.  
  
“Can I help you, Lady Stark?” His voice was more annoyed than he should have let it be. He watched her eyes wonder around the room. She must have noticed he was getting his things together should he have to leave.  
  
“You are leaving?” Sansa seemed surprised and finally dropped her hands to her side.  
  
“Am I? You hadn’t made my place here very clear. Am I Robb’s father? Am I some old Knight you knew? You have yet to make yourself clear on what I can expect.”  
  
Sansa took a step toward him and reached her hand out for his. She hesitated and closed her fingers into a fist instead and brought her hands together again. “I do not have all the answers you wish to hear.” She was now fidgeting with her fingers. “I would like you to be patient.” She raised her hand to make sure he did not interrupt her. “I know, you have been patient. I just need you to be patient a little longer.”  
  
She took another step toward him and let her lips brush the stubble on his cheeks. Jaime reached out with his good hand and brushed her face. Although he wanted to be angry with her for the previous night, it was hard to be mad at Sansa Stark. “I don’t know how much more patient I could be.” He let his fingers trace her jaw and then took a step back from her.  
  
“Please don’t leave.” The words had left her mouth so fast and so softly that Jaime was not sure he heard her properly. “Please.” She again whispered to him.  
  
Jaime leaned forward to kiss her, but she put her hand upon his chest to stop him. “I can’t.” She looked away with shame on her face. “I just need you to be patient.” She repeated.  
  
With that, Sansa was out of his chambers as fast as she was in them. The visit was so fast and again, confusing, that Jaime was not sure he had really seen her in the first place. Perhaps he was going mad and just hopeful she would ask him to stay. Jaime had been very patient since his arrival. Had it been up to him, Jaime would have claimed his son six years ago, or at the very least a fortnight ago. She had repeated for him to be patient many times.  
  
Once he was ready, he made his way to the Great Hall. It was filled was people already. His eyes made their way to the raised table where the King was already seated, deep in conversation with Tyrion. The feast reminded him of the first one he attended here, many years ago, when Winterfell was filled with Starks. His eyes scanned the room. The flames of candles placed at every table caught his eye first. The laughter echoing the room from people Jaime had never seen before, and many he had. His eyes caught the Hounds for a moment before Sandor pulled a large mug to his mouth and looked away.  
  
Her laugh was what caught his attention next. Jaime’s green eyes scanned the room and when they fell upon her, he understood what she had meant by patience. His stomach pulled as he noticed Sansa standing with Podrick on one side of her and Robb on the other. They stood there together as a family, smiling and talking to each other. He felt his muscles tighten and his stomach churn. It was him who should be standing aside Sansa and their son. It was him who should be standing there.  
  
Before he could act upon any irrational thought that came through his head, his brother appeared before him. “Green is not a flattering color on you.” Tyrion smirked as he followed Jaime’s eyes to Sansa and Podrick. Jaime tried his best to not glare at his brother. “You’re a funny man.” He replied dryly and then walked past him to be seated at a table. He was close to the raised table where the King and Sansa would sit, but not at the table himself. As much as Jaime desired to be close to his son more than all, he kept his distance. Winterfell’s walls were filled with Northerners, most of which who would always think of him as the Kingslayer and standing next to Robb would bring attention to their similarities.  
  
The feast officially began, and the tables began to fill. There was music playing, wine pouring, and food filling plates.  Jaime had not realized how hungry he was until his plate was filled with food. Lady Sansa Stark had put together a wonderful feast in name of Robb.  
  
When Jon stood and raised his hand, the room fell silent. The music stopped and everyone stared at the raised table where the King stood. To his left was Tyrion, Hand of the King. To his right, was the Lady of Winterfell. They remained seated and both were looked up at him.  
  
“Tonight, we celebrate Robb Stark’s sixth name day. One day, he will be Lord of Winterfell. He will be a great Lord and as fearless as the Starks before him.” Jon raised his goblet to the air as a toast. The room quickly followed, and then let out a cheer. He took a sip and sat back down.  
  
After the King spoke, the feast picked back up. The music didn’t stop, the laughter boomed louder, and the room seemed more packed than it did earlier. There was dancing, there was drinking. As he was watching Sansa and Podrick speaking to each other, his attention was broken by Robb.  
  
“Ser Jaime.” The young boy rested his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. “Do you not want to be here? You haven’t come to me once during my feast.” Robb sounded disappointed. It pulled at Jaime’s heart and made him feel guilty for not reaching out yet. The boy had felt rejected and there was no way Jaime could explain to the boy the complications of him being there.  
  
“Of course, I want to be here!” He reassured, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezing a bit. “I feel quite lucky to have been able to come meet you and attend your feast. It is an honor to be here.” Jaime added, watching as Robb stood back up and smiled at him.  
  
“I am very glad you came to Winterfell, Ser Jaime. I hope you’ll stay and keep training me. Mother said you were the greatest Swordsman.” A toothy grin spread across Robb’s face. Jaime felt eyes on him, and he worried who was looking at him, but his eyes raised to meet Sansa’s. She was watching him them from across the room in what looked like a heated discussion between herself and Podrick.  
  
His eyes were glued to hers now and she kept her composure as solid as ever. Even with her putting up a good face, he could see they weren't having a happy discussion. Sansa was too proper of a lady to argue in public though and stood up to walk away. Podrick stood up as well and looked behind him, directly at Jaime. He stared at him for a moment and then stormed away, leaving the feast early.   
  
Jaime took a swig of his drink to boost his confidence in his next action and then made his way across the room to Sansa. She still stood in place, staring at the door that Podrick had left out of. "Lady Sansa, is everything okay?" He kept his voice low.   
  
Sansa nodded to him but didn't speak. "Would you like to dance?" He offered his hand but she didn't take it.   
  
"I told him everything. I couldn't lie to him anymore."  
  
The music seemed to stop. The laughter around him seemed to halt. The crowded room felt suddenly empty. He stood before Sansa and his lips parted but no words left his mouth.   
  
When he felt a body bump into his own, Jaime braced himself for the punch he surely thought was coming. Instead, he noticed someone had just bumped into him to get past. The noise kd the room overcame his senses again and he realized he was standing there like a fool with his mouth agape.   
  
"What do you mean, you told him everything." He finally asked.   
  
" _Everything_ , Jaime."   
  
Perhaps he _should_ leave Winterfell. Before Podrick attempted to murder him for last night. 


	11. Sansa - V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for another update! I churned out so many chapters at first that it was hard to keep up with posting every day/every other day. Hope you guys enjoy!

The feast she had been planning for what felt like many moons was going smoothly and Sansa was most pleased with the turnout. It seemed everyone was having a grand time and although it took some convincing, Jon made a short speech to celebrate Robb’s name day. He never liked attention on himself, and even after much time of being King, he still did not. If he protested, next in line would be Tyrion, who although is a witty man—he probably wasn’t the best to speak about a sixth name day. Maybe when Robb is a grown man.

She stood near the raised table in the Great Hall with Podrick at her side. She had avoided him so much lately that aside from their family supper, they had barely spoken. Tonight, he looked handsome as ever and was taking advantage of the fact Sansa would be a proper Lady and stand by his side most of the night. Most of the night was pleasant, they laughed, they danced—they shared some of their favorite memories through the years of Robb growing from a babe to the now little rambunctious boy he was becoming. Podrick had asked Sansa if something was wrong a few times, but she attempted to avoid the conversation. This wasn’t the place to get the guilt off her chest.

Tonight wasn’t going to be the night she broke Podrick’s heart. Sansa had hoped this, at the very least. As the night went on, she couldn’t help but feel a draw to Jaime. Although she attempted to keep her eye contact away from him, it was like she constantly felt his presence from across the room. Her eyes drifted around the room and found her son next to him, elbows propped on the table and head in his hands. He was pouting about something. The boy had quickly grown attached to him.

Sansa her thoughts drift momentarily to what tonight would have been like had Jaime been a father all along to Robb. Would they be celebrating at Casterly Rock? Would this have been an even bigger celebration? Would they have been married? There were so many thoughts swirling in her head and aching her heart that she barely realized Podrick grabbing her arm to get her attention.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” His voice was low but riddled with aggravation.

Her eyes snapped away from Jaime and up to Podrick’s furrowed brows. She swallowed down the lump that was forming in her throat and tried to put a smile on for him.

“I’m sorry. I was just looking to see if everyone was enjoying their time.”

“Everyone? You mean if Jaime Lannister was enjoying his time.” Podrick snapped back at her, his eyes going between her face and where Jaime sat with young Robb.

“I don’t believe I w—” She was cut off by Podrick who finally let go of her arm and crossed his together.

“Stop. Please, just stop. You have barely acknowledged I’ve been here since he arrived. What is going on?”

This was not where Sansa wanted to have this discussion. In fact, she would rather discuss this _anywhere_ but here in the middle of her son’s feast, surrounded by many houses of the North and her brother, the King.

“We should talk about this later,” She tried to pull a reassuring smile to her face for him, but he the expression on his face showed he was now believing it. “We can talk about it tonight.” Sansa confirmed.

Podrick rubbed his chin and shook his head at her. “You’re unbelievable.” A small laugh escaped his lips, as if he couldn’t believe the conversation going on. “If you have something to say, why not say it right now? Why make me wait? You’ve had me waiting for a fortnight now.” His voice was harsh now and he was a Podrick that she didn’t know. The Podrick she had shared her life with the past six years was sweet, understanding, and had never raised his voice to her. Until Jaime came around.

“I just don’t think this is the time.” Her eyes returned to Jaime where she watched her son stand up and grin. It tugged at her heart.

“It must be really bad, m’lady, if you won’t discuss it here. Did you sleep together?” His tone was still harsh but now barely a whisper. She could hear the pain in his voice, and it was breaking her. This was all her fault. Podrick had been nothing short of wonderful to her and last night she slept with Jaime. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. She still did it and the regret was now boiling under her skin. She didn’t regret being with Jaime—she regretted she didn’t wait.

Sansa couldn’t bring herself to look at Podrick in the eyes and that was enough of an answer for him. He stepped back and shook his head at her. “When was it then? The night he arrived?” He questioned.

“Last night.” She admitted. Sansa struggled to keep her composure and keep the tears from welling in her eyes, but it was a lost cause. She could feel her hands shaking but she continued her eye contact with Jaime. How could she look at Podrick in the eyes at this point?

“Have you ever loved me?”

“I’ve always cared about you. I will always care about you.” Sansa finally looked away from Jaime and looked up at Podrick. His lips were scrunched up in a grimace and his eyebrowed were still furrowed. It wasn’t an upset look—it was a look of disgust that played up on his face.

“Did you ever stop loving him? Did you just bide your time with me, m’lady?” His tone changed from harsh to sarcastic.

“You know that is not true.” She whispered.

“Which part? That you don’t love him? Or that you didn’t waste your time with me?” Podrick spat back at her.

“I did not realize until he was around again that my feelings were still there. You always knew I cared for him.” Sansa was getting angry with him and she went to turn away from him. “And the fact that you’d accuse me of such a thing makes me think you don’t really know me.” She walked away from Podrick and moved towards where people were dancing. Sansa needed a distraction and the happiness that was radiating off everyone dancing would surely help.

Podrick had stormed off and was now leaving the Great Hall. Sansa stood there and watched as the door opened and closed. Robb would be heartbroken that Podrick left his feast. This entire situation was Sansa’s fault. Her son was going to be hurt because she was selfish with her feelings towards Jaime.

“Lady Sansa, is everything okay?” Jaime’s voice snapped her trance out of the door. She couldn’t manage to speak because she was sure that her voice would show her emotions, so she gave a small nod to him.

“Would you like to dance?” He offered his hand to her, but Sansa didn’t take it. She couldn’t break Podrick’s heart and then be seen dancing with the reason he was hurting.

“I told him everything. I couldn’t lie to him anymore.” She admitted.

Jaime’s face softened in front of her and she could tell that he was shocked at her words. It felt like they stood without speaking for a while before he finally replied to her, “What do you mean, you told him everything.” He asked.

“ _Everything_ , Jaime.” She hoped her tone would imply that she meant the night before that they had shared together.

“Right here? You told him at Robb’s feast?” He seemed confused. Sansa was confused too. This wasn’t how she expected the night to go.

“I didn’t want to tell him during the feast. I meant to after. He asked me and I couldn’t lie.” She sighed and glanced around to see if anyone could hear their conversation. “I couldn’t continue to laugh and dance like we were getting on fine. He saw me looking at you and it went downhill from there.”

Jaime smirked and the look on his face eased the pain the was aching her heart. “So, you couldn’t keep your eyes off me and got caught?” She could tell he was trying to make light of the situation, but she kept a serious look on her face and used her hand to push his shoulder softly.

“This isn’t a time to joke about it. Do you know how hurt Robb will be?” She leaned forward to make sure no one else heard her. “He loves Podrick as a father. Do you think Podrick will stay in Winterfell if I tell Robb you are his father?”

Jaime cocked his head to the side as if he was considering her words, but she could see that when she said father, his eyes light up. His green eyes seemed brighter in that moment and filled with excitement—much like Robb’s did when he was excited about something. “So, you plan to tell him?”

Sansa nodded. “Not tonight. He should be going off to bed soon. Perhaps tomorrow.” She confirmed to him. “While Jon is still in Winterfell.”

Before Jaime could respond, Robb came barreling through the people dancing and practically tackled Sansa with a hug. “Thank you, Mother. Tonight was the best. I couldn’t get Tyrion to dance though, you said I might be able to if I kept giving him juice.” There was a small frown at his lips. The thought of Tyrion dancing amused her but seemed to amuse Jaime more, who was letting out a great laugh.

“Robb, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother dance.” He put his hand on Robb’s shoulder and patted a few times before he pulled them to his side. Sansa leaned down and placed a kiss on his golden hair. “It is already past your bed time. Go get some rest.” She told him, then pushed him off towards the doors.

They both stood there and watched their son walk to the door. He stopped as it opened and turned his face towards them, throwing a little wave up into the air before disappearing through.

“So. What are the chances Podrick tries to have me murdered tonight?” He asked her. Sansa shook her head like a disappointed mother at Jaime. His tone implied he was joking, but it was too soon for jokes.

“He would do it himself. Maybe lock your door.” She smirked and then walked away from him and made her way back to the raised table where she thought she would find Job. He wasn’t there though and as she glanced around the room, she didn’t see his dark mop of hair anywhere.

Finally, she saw him poke through the door coming back in with a concerned look on his face. His face always looked concerned, but this was different. She pushed through a few people until she was face to face with him. He seemed surprised to see her and grabbed her arm to pull her outside the Great Hall.

Once they were outside the feast, Jon turned to her and let go of her arm. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” His voice seemed deeper than normal. It was the voice he used when he was trying to break bad news to someone. “Podrick told me he is leaving. Tonight. He went and told Robb that he was going on a trip and said goodbye.”

Sansa knew that Podrick would be upset with her. She knew he would be heartbroken. She knew he possibly would not want to see her for a bit. It did not cross her mind that he would be so distraught that he would leave Winterfell all together before having another discussion with her.

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to get out before she felt as if ice water had been thrown over her.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked her.

Sansa shook her head. She wanted to tell him everything that had been crushing her in the past day, but nothing was coming out of her mouth. She could feel his hands grasp her shoulders and he pulled her towards him, planning a kiss on her hairline. She closed her tired eyes and for a moment—it was like father stood next to her and reassured her. When Jon let go, she was snapped back to reality.

Last night she had acted with her heart, not her mind. The Lady of Winterfell needed to think with her mind. This was easy up until Jaime came around. Whenever she was around him, it was like a different Sansa came out. Jon left her outside the Great Hall and she stood there considering what to do next.

The door opened again, and her eyes caught with Jaime’s familiar green eyes. He stepped towards her and then hesitated, pausing mid-step.

“I think we should talk.” Sansa’s voice was shaking and uncertain. It matched the look on Jaime’s face. He seemed uncertain of what she could want to speak about after already confessing she told Podrick.

“What would you like to speak about, Lady Sansa.” He asked her, taking another step closer.

“We should talk about everything. You. Me. Us. Robb.” She finally replied and then turned away from him, expecting him to follow her.

Tonight, she would let six years of emotions out. Tonight, Sansa would be honest with the man she had avoided thinking about for six years. Nothing had ever frightened her as much as the conversation she knew was about to happen.


End file.
